Freedom's Chains, a Thieves in Time story 4
by Orion Lyonesse
Summary: Avon and Vila have parted ways. Avon has gotten on with his life with Anna Grant. Vila has finally returned to Earth, finding a familiar dark man on trial and makes a choice. Shortly, Blake appears. Complications! Follows 'Unchained Melody.'
1. Justice Systems, Embezzlers, and Thieves

_A/N: This story is Part One of Chapter Four of __Thieves in Time__. It follows Unchained Melody. Vila gives, Avon takes. Blake masters them all, especially Avon! Warning: mature content._

_The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives._

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Vila sat unobtrusively in the back row of the courtroom. Normally, a trial such as this one would not have been conducted in the public eye but the Federation intended to make an example of the man, hence the open trial.

Vila had made it his habit for the past couple of years to sit in on as many open court cases as possible, figuring, and rightly so, that the more he knew of the judicial system, the easier it would be to avoid future complications. He watched, fascinated, as the system manipulated witness after witness to prove this defendant guilty. He shook his head. The man on trial was no more guilty of assaulting those children than he himself was. All you had to do was look at him to know the truth of it.

Several years earlier, he remembered from news vids, this same person had been exhibited as a reformed revolutionary, a symbol of what the Federation could accomplish, given the correct subject and state-of-the-art rehab techniques. He suspected that the present farce had decidedly political overtones, given that past, and was an attempt to discredit the man who had so obviously reverted to his former self.

Concentrating on the testimony, Vila didn't notice as someone slipped in beside him.

"There's a more interesting show across the hall."

"What?" Vila said, startled. "Oh, hullo, Brand." The slight, grey-haired man beside him, a friend since Vila had returned to Earth six months ago, could hardly contain his excitement, jigging in place despite the hard, courtroom bench.

"I said, Vila, that you'd get more out of the trial in the courtroom across the hall."

"Why do you say that?" Vila whispered, frowning.

"More in your area of interest, I think. You know this one's too political for you."

"And the other one?" His interest was piqued. Had he missed something important on the daily docket? Something Brand had picked up on?

The other man smiled smugly, pretending to be interested in his fingernail. "Oh, just some genius who tried to talk the Fed's banking computers out of mor'n five million credits and almost got away with it."

Something clicked in Vila's mind. He turned to his friend. "Computer genius, you say? What's he look like?"

"More your type than mine, I think. Kind of dark, you know." Now he had Vila's full attention.

"Dark? How do you mean?" Somehow Vila already knew the answer.

"Brown hair, dark eyes, sorta scary looking."

Vila sucked in a breath. Could it be…? He almost managed to hide the quiver in his voice, but Brand knew him well enough to see that something was upsetting his friend. "Didja catch his name?"

"Uh, Evan, Avon, something like that."

Vila stood. "Come on then and show me." Silently, he followed Brand out the door, his usual grace turned stiff and tense.

They slipped quietly into the next courtroom, taking seats in the back. Vila was almost afraid to look, but he had to. It was Avon and in the expression on the man's face Vila read fear behind the stubbornness. Avon was in more trouble than ever before. Vila listened as the Federation's best prosecutor hounded the dark genius, demanding to know everything. How did he accomplish the fraud? Who helped him? Where did he hide the money? An endless stream of questions. He watched as Kerr Avon sat in stony silence, refusing to answer.

_Oh, Avon, don't you know what they'll do to you?_

Finally, the prosecutor gave up, raising his hands in defeat. "All right, then, if this is how you want it." He turned to the raised bench where the tribunal panel sat. "The defendant has repeatedly refused to answer both in court and under interrogation. I have no choice but to turn him back to you for sentencing."

Vila drew a sharp breath, silently cursing Avon's stubbornness along with the Federation's methods. He watched the three Tribunal Council members conferring among themselves on their lofty perch. Then they stopped speaking and turned to face the room.

The senior arbiter regarded Avon. "The defendant will rise and face the bench." He waited, then spoke directly to the man standing before him. Avon's carriage was erect and defiant, even in the face of certain defeat.

"It is the decision of this tribunal that because of your refusal to cooperate, the maximum sentence will be passed on you. Therefore, it is our judgment that you be taken this day to a holding facility until such time as transport is available. At that time, you will be conveyed to the Federation penal colony on Cygnus Alpha, where you will remain for the rest of your natural life, without possibility of pardon or parole."

Vila saw an almost imperceptible slump in the set of Avon's shoulders as the sentence was pronounced. It took every ounce of self-control Vila possessed to remain seated, his whole being wanting to break through the guards and grab Avon, to hold him, comfort him, shield him from the result of his actions.

"Pretty stiff sentence, that," Brand hissed. "I figured an Alpha like him'd get off easier. But considering what else happened, I suppose he should've expected it."

"Whaddya mean?" Vila demanded, turning from the dejected Avon, being led away, to focus on the man at his side. "What else happened?"

"Oh, apparently, this whole scheme made some high muckety-muck bank executive look so bad, he committed suicide rather than face the consequences. Seems kinda stupid, if you ask me." Brand saw the stricken look on Vila's face. "Hey, you all right?"

"Yeah, sure. But listen, there's something important I gotta take care of." He turned to go. "Talk to you later…maybe."

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Vila stood in the back of the casino, waiting for the man he'd been told of while serving his last prison term. The man was quite high up in the Terra Nostra and, while the idea of dealing directly with him was frightening in itself, knowing what would happen to Avon if he didn't was much more so. Vila waited.

"You wanted to see me?" The soft voice startled him.

Vila spun around, trying to locate the voice. He spotted a form nearby, clothed in shadow. "Uh, yes, I did."

"Someone said you had an offer for me." The face was indistinct and likely to remain so, unidentifiable.

Vila gulped. He wasn't used to dealing with the 'Nostra at this high a level. He nodded. "That's right."

"I'm waiting."

The voice was bored and Vila hurried his words, fearful that the interview would end before he'd gotten what he needed. He cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, you see, there's this person I know, er, knew, that is, and he was convicted of bank fraud and sentenced to life on Cygnus Alpha."

Somehow, Vila knew the shadow man was surprised. "I know the one. Crying shame, it was. We could have used someone like him."

"Well, I…what I mean is, he doesn't deserve what'll happen to him." Vila squared his shoulders, trying to appear more confident than he really felt.

"I agree, but are you offering to take his place?" The shadow seemed amused by the idea.

"Me?" he squeaked. "No. But I am offering to take someone else's place, someone who might also be scheduled for transport to the penal colony." He held his breath. Would the 'Nostra go for the idea?

Suspicion colored the shadow's next question. "What's this embezzler to you?"

"N…nothing now, just a former friend. But he won't survive without help and he's too stubborn to ask for it. If I were there, you know, to at least make sure he's protected, he might have a chance."

"You still love him, then?" The question came like a stealth missile out of the clear blue sky.

Vila blinked and shook his head. "How'd you…"

"It's written all over your face, Restal." The crime lord was silent for a moment before continuing. "Hmm, there might be a way. I could arrange for one of our people who's being held to be exchanged for you, if you confessed to the crime he's been convicted of…for the right price, of course." His voice was thoughtful, and Vila could almost hear the wheels in the man's head calculating to the decimal what this service was worth to him and the Terra Nostra.

Vila nodded and pulled a bulging pouch from his jacket. He emptied it on the table nearby and the gems and credits sparkled even in that dimness.

"It's all the money I have. Approximately 100,000 credits. Will it be enough?"

The crimo boss nodded at the treasure. "Worth that much to you, is he?"

Vila nodded. _…and more_, he thought, keeping the information to himself, lest the man require more money, which he didn't have. He waited, a brittle statue that even a breeze would have shattered.

Finally, the shadow nodded again. "All right. Go back to your place. We'll contact you with the details in the next day or so."

"D…don't wait too long, please," Vila pleaded, daringly. "I don't know how much time he has before they transport him."

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Vila stumbled as he was rudely pushed into the holding cell. Now, as he thought back, he was beginning to wonder if it was such a good idea after all, confessing to a crime he hadn't committed, submitting to interrogation and sentencing, all to get himself where he now stood. He looked up and his eyes met the dark hollow ones of Kerr Avon and he knew in that moment that his decision had been the only one possible. Vila made no movement toward his former lover after giving a brief nod of acknowledgement. The other man turned away, pointedly ignored him. Whatever was going through Avon's mind, Vila was willing to wait. After all, they had the rest of their lives together, one way or another.

Avon, slumped dejectedly on a bare-mattressed cot, had been dumfounded when he'd looked up at the newest deportee and recognized Vila. It couldn't be, he thought. Vila wasn't even on Earth, the last he'd heard. Yet, here he was, a rumpled, older version of the man he'd last seen – and kissed – on the airport concourse so many years ago. So, things COULD get worse. Now, for whatever reason, Vila was going to share his life sentence. Well, let him. It was his own doing, whatever had led him to this cell. Avon simply accepted Vila's nod, then turned his back on the thief. Better the rest of the crimos here didn't know of any connection between them.

The next cell occupant was Blake, brought in unconscious and dumped in an undignified sprawl onto a cot. Avon recognized him from the resistance group and from that first, much publicized trial and sentencing. Watching the trial had brought back memories of a much younger Blake, mixed up with a red speedster. It had taken Avon longer to track that down in his memories, for the man that dissatisfied youth had grown into was a very charismatic figure.

From his vantage point, leaning casually against a dingy, grey wall, Vila looked about the cell, taking stock of his surroundings, of these people he'd be living with for the rest of his life. It was just another prison to Vila, and he was an expert on prisons. Though he had experience enough to pull it off, he knew Avon wouldn't accept him as any sort of protector, so he set about formulating a plan to insure the genius' protection without his realizing Vila's part in it. And that curly-haired firebrand could be just what he needed.

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The LONDON was only a few days out from Earth when Vila's plan fell into place, quite by accident.

"He needs you help, Blake, now!" The thief tugged on the larger man's sleeve, indicating the three toughs who were just following Avon into the cleansing unit, desire and mayhem on their faces.

"I'll take care of him," Blake reassured Vila, wading through the other prisoners.

The dark-eyed embezzler was backed against the shower wall, doing his utmost to appear unruffled in the face of certain disaster. He closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again as the toughs shuffled closer. There was a movement in the doorway and a fourth, then a fifth person joined the group. Avon recognized the rebel prisoner from a previous conversation, then saw Vila cringing in his shadow.

Blake's sheer physical presence was felt by even these unlettered murderers, before he spoke. They stopped their advancement and turned, eyeing Blake like jackals encountering a lion.

The thief peeked around Blake's shoulder, locked eyes with Avon for one brief instant, then ducked back into the shadows. Blake's possessive tone rumbled in Vila's ears as the man warned Avon's would-be assailants, "Shove off, lads, this one's mine!" Blake glanced behind at Vila and arched an inquiring eyebrow at him, to be answered with a quick, sharp head movement before the thief moved off, disappearing into the crowd outside the room's door.

Avon determined to ignore both that cryptic exchange and Vila. As the last of the three thugs left the room, he strode over to Blake, demanding, "Why did you do that?"

Unperturbed by the glower Avon cast at him, he said mildly, "I thought you were in trouble. Would you like for me to call them back?" He raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Avon bristled. "I certainly don't need your protection."

"You're welcome," said the rebel, cocking his head in amusement.

"I may owe you, Blake, but I'm not happy about it." Avon fairly steamed. He didn't need anyone's help, certainly not that of this…this bleeding-heart rebel.

"No one is putting you in debt, Avon. And as for being unhappy, well, that's your problem." He shrugged, turned and left, leaving Avon standing, fuming, alone in the shower room.

After that, Avon had been marginally accepted in Blake's core of prisoners, though Nova, Gan, Jenna and Vila made up the heart of the group. Avon kept telling himself that it was what he wanted. He needed neither their aid nor their friendship. He was better off alone. That way, no one could betray him.

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_A/N: Reviews would be welcome!_


	2. Mating Dance

_A/N: Part Two of Chapter Four of __Thieves in Time__. As the Liberator begins to make itself known to the Federation, the crew settles in and Blake plots to bind Avon to his Cause. Warning: mature content!_

_The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives._

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They had been on the LIBERATOR for some months now. The crew, as diverse a group of outlaws and rebels as Avon could conceive of, had more or less integrated into a well-functioning whole. They'd investigated and pried continually into the ship's capabilities until they felt confident in pushing its limits when circumstances called for it. For most of them, the LONDON seemed light years behind them.

Avon, however, still brooded about his experiences there and in the holding cell before that. Aboard the LONDON and later the LIBERATOR, Vila and Avon had gradually returned to the bantering, Alpha/Delta backtalk they'd known in years past, but somehow the sex never crept back into it. They'd kept their past together a silently-agreed-upon secret.

From his station, Avon surreptitiously watched as a caged lion paced the deck, a lion that wore Roj Blake's face and spanned the area with Blake's powerful strides. He listened as the man snapped out orders and responded to conditions and reports. The cause Blake fought for Avon had long since deemed a losing one. Still, the man himself intrigued him.

He glanced at Vila, realizing he'd been caught watching Blake. He could almost hear the thief's thought: _He fascinates you, doesn't he, Avon? And you don't even know why. Well, go on then, you've always made your own mistakes, haven't you, even when I tried to stop you. _

But things were taken out of everyone's hands. Just as Blake's pacing took him past Avon's station, the LIBERATOR rocked, taking a direct a hit, throwing its commander to the deck, with Avon toppling on top of him. Instinctively, they clasped each other, trying to avoid further injury. As their eyes locked, sparks flew that had nothing to do with exploding circuitry.

Time seemed to stand still for the two men, or perhaps they had just escaped its inexorable stream. Questions and answers flew silently between them, unheard and unguessed by the others, with the probable exception of Vila.

_What's this, then?_

_Don't know, but it feels quite good, doesn't it?_

_Undeniably. What does it mean?_

_Perhaps we should study this further – in private?_

_An excellent idea. Later._

Avon and Blake disengaged from each other and resumed their stations. The computer tech happened to glance up, catching Vila's frown. _He saw and he knows. I'm sure I'll get a private lecture on choices and stupidity later. _He smiled a predatory smile. _What the hell. I am committed to this folly already. I might as well go all the way with it. I am sorry, Vila. _He lowered his head, trying to hide his smile from the thief, who always saw too much for his own good.

The balance of the mating dance was accomplished under the very noses of the rest of the crew. Vila surely knew and Cally, fast becoming friends with both Vila and Avon, suspected. Gan and Jenna hadn't a clue.

It wasn't just happenstance that after this, during the battle when turbulence shook the ship, the two men were standing close, in case one needed steadying by the other. A word, a touch here and there, on the arm, on the shoulder. Fingers brushing as an article was passed from one to the other. Oh, yes, Vila noticed that too and shook his head in despair.

Finally, the attack fleet moved off, getting the message that the Liberator was more than a match for them. "Well, that's that," Blake said, the danger passed. "Zen, are there any other ships within detector range?"

*Negative. All pursuit ships have aborted their attack and are moving away at high speed. Liberator is clear.*

"Good. Then perhaps we can get on with our lives for a little while." So saying, he turned and left the deck without another word. While the others looked perplexed for a moment, they mostly shrugged and went about their duties.

Avon watched him disappear and waited a few minutes before doing the same. "I'm going to my cabin. I trust the rest of you can be counted upon to keep out of trouble for a few hours?"

"Of course, Avon. Anything you say, Avon," Vila muttered as he watched the man go off in search of certain foolishness.

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Avon paced alone in his quarters, attempting to resume his calm, calculating manner, but the memory was far too fresh. He could still feel the lurch of the ship, Blake's body beneath his on the deck as they were thrown together. He shuddered uncontrollably, eyes closed, remembering the warmth of the man's aura bathing him, fascinating him, mesmerizing him. He wanted to experience it again and was unconcerned with the cost.

He became aware of the signal at his door. "Yes?"

"Avon, it's Blake. May I come in?" That cool voice electrified Avon, rooting him to the floor for a moment as a shiver coursed through his body. He remembered Vila's eyes, accusing, warning. But he had his own path to follow, didn't he? Vila might think he was Avon's conscience, but Avon had his own conscience, and it didn't sound remotely like Vila.

"Why not?" He keyed the entry, schooling his expression neutrality. It wouldn't do to betray his inner turmoil.

Blake strode in, a bottle of wine in one hand and two crystal goblets in the other. He closed the door and placed his offering carefully on the table before turning his eyes to Avon. "Please, help yourself." He gestured toward the wine, strangely graceful for so big a man.

The tech popped the wine cork with practiced ease, taking a tentative sniff and nodding his approval, before he poured them each a glass. He turned questioning eyes to Blake, ignoring the quiver in his stomach. "What shall we drink to, then?"

Blake stared deeply into Avon's brown eyes. What was he thinking, he wondered? Would his overtures be rebuffed or would he gain the foothold he needed, something to bind Avon to him, to his cause. He tilted his head, proposing, "How about...cooperation?"

"Of course," Avon agreed, perhaps a shade too quickly. He took a healthy swallow. "Trying to get me drunk, Blake?"

"On this?" He raised his goblet, admiring the sparkle of bubbles rising to the surface. "It's far too valuable to waste. Besides, we'd have to consume more than I brought with me." He paused, considering Avon, standing just that much too close, inside his personal space. "Why, do you want me to get you drunk, Avon?"

Avon turned his back to Blake without answering, discomfited and not wanting to show it to this man. He sensed rather than felt the man's presence coming close behind him. A strong hand landed on his shoulder, another at his hip, moving around his waist, coming to rest on his belt buckle. The other hand joined it but moved no further.

Avon leaned back against him, eyes closed, listening to the soft breathing in his ear, the thump-thump of his heart, the rumbling voice whispering, "I want you, Avon."

A moan escaped the tech's lips as he felt Blake's tongue tracing the outline of his earlobe. Now the hands began to unfasten his belt. Avon drew in a quick sharp breath.

"You must know," Blake told him softly, "how very beautiful you are."

"It's been...pointed out…on occasion." Avon gasped as Blake's touch became even more intimate, one hand moving up under the ebony shirt, the other dipping lower to caress the straining erection through Avon's underclothes.

Blake's left hand brushed an already taut nipple, noting the shudder that ran down the length of the man's body. He smiled at the response, his right hand dipping inside the briefs. Then he rocked his hips ever so gently against the other man's backside. "You like that, don't you, Avon?" he purred.

"Oh, yes," the reply was nearly inaudible. "…very much."

"Good…" Blake turned him about and began to remove the dark clothing. He ran his hands appreciatively over each part of the alabaster body as it was exposed to his questing fingers and hungry eyes, noting that Avon was standing very still now, eyes closed, allowing himself to be silently undressed.

His eyes open now, silently amused, the tech stepped out of his trousers, grinning slightly. "I think I'd best remove my own boots, Blake. They can be a bit tricky."

Blake returned the smile. "I've had the same problem on occasion." Keeping his attention on Avon, Blake pulled off his vest and began to unbutton his shirt. tossing the garment over a chair, he removed something from the pocket and handed it to his soon-to-be lover. "I trust you know what to do with that?"

Avon took the tube and nodded, beginning to prepare himself.

Blake watched as Avon covered his own manhood with the lubricant, mouth slightly open. _Yes. Soon you will be mine completely. I won't have to pretend._ He lay face down on the bed, legs slightly parted. "Now, Avon."

The tech knelt between the rebel leader's thighs, thinking that Blake seemed to be knowledgeable in the ways of same sex joinings. He remembered the incident on the London. Blake had certainly seemed to understand what was happening then.

Leaning forward, he entered the man slowly, gently, increasing the length of his strokes with each movement.

"Yes!" Blake gasped. "More, Avon, all of it, now!"

Avon obeyed, thrusting hard and deep, burying himself in his leader. "Oh gods, Blake, this is incredible!" he breathed.

"Yes," Blake hissed back, "it is." He began to move beneath Avon, arching against him.

In far too little time, both men reached their limits and plunged over in the same instant, each crying out the other's name as ecstasy claimed them.

Avon collapsed on top of Blake, his breathing rapid and labored. Blake rolled over onto his back, holding Avon close at his side and claiming his mouth in a kiss that left them both gasping, their arousal returning almost immediately.

"Your turn," Avon murmured into Blake's ear, then began to kiss his way down the other man's middle, snaking his tongue into Blake's navel, then sliding even further, taking the semi-erect manhood into his more than ready mouth.

Blake inhaled sharply and grasped Avon's head between both hands. "Please…"

"Mmmm," Avon moaned against the shaft, moving agonizingly slower than Blake intended.

"Faster, man!" he urged.

But Avon wouldn't have it. Pulling away, he managed to say, "Oh, no. I intend to take my time with you."

Blake surrendered, flopping back onto the pillows, allowing Avon to work his magic at his own speed. He could not believe his luck. To find someone with this man's talent for computers as well as his more 'hidden' attributes was more than he could have asked for. He allowed himself to simply enjoy the act, drifting, rising, floating, then flaring to climax. Suddenly, he arched and came, almost without warning, filling Avon's mouth with his life's fluid.

Avon drank him in, savoring the taste, eyes closed, still experiencing the rapture he'd given to the man beneath him. How could he have missed this…potential in the charismatic rebel? Perhaps he'd been blinded to it by his own prejudice against those who pursued a 'Cause,' as opposed to those like himself who only pursued wealth. Whatever the reason, he'd found Blake out now. There was no turning back.

"I could get used to this, you know," Blake interrupted Avon's musings. "Quite used to it."

"Yes, you are," chuckled Avon.

"What am I?" Blake asked, puzzled.

"Quite used," the tech replied, laughing quietly, relaxed, satisfied and sliding, in spite of himself, into a deep slumber.

Blake held him as he slept, silently congratulating himself on what he'd just accomplished. _Oh, Avon…so are you._

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_A/N: Now that Blake has what he wants, what will Vila do?_

_Reviews would be welcome!_


	3. Complications

_A/N: Part Three of Chapter Four of Thieves in Time. This one focuses on Vila, much to his distress. Warning: mature content!_

_The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives._

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As Blake neared the corner of the corridor close to Avon's cabin, he froze in place to hear his name included in what sounded like an argument between Vila and Avon. Easing silently closer to the corner, he flattened himself against the wall, listening.

"Avon, you'll be sorry, ya know! Blake isn't good for you – not that way. You'll see!"

With that, apparently, Avon slammed his door in Vila's face. Vila's footsteps died away as Blake chewed on a finger, pondering what he'd heard. It became obvious to him that Vila had argued against his relationship with Avon, something Blake couldn't and wouldn't stand for. He needed the computer tech, though he wasn't sure where his need for his cause left off and his need for the man began.

Determining that he had to do something and do it now, Blake pushed himself off the wall, going in search of Vila.

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Answering his door signal, a stunned Vila found himself being rudely shoved, then slammed against the wall. Pinning him with a forearm across the throat, Blake reached over to secure the cabin door.

Vila, gaping and gasping, could say nothing, but his eyes were wide and fearful, staring at Blake. As far as the thief knew, he hadn't done anything remotely deserving of this treatment. He knew he was in for it, though, when Blake locked the door. Although his mind was busily searching for ways to talk himself out of whatever trouble he was in, he didn't come close to the real reason for Blake's behavior.

Gripping Vila's overall front and easily raising the man to tiptoes, Blake growled, "I won't have your Delta interference between Avon and me! Do you understand? He's mine now, body and mind, and that's the way I want it to stay!"

"What…" Vila stuttered, his mind trying desperately to shift gears to meet this unexpected attack. "I…"

"You argued with Avon to drop me, didn't you, so you could take my place! I heard you in the corridor. But you won't stand in my way again, will you, Vila?" His voice was low and threatening, as Vila had never heard it before. His eyes were hot and fierce, boring into Vila's.

Trying to defuse the situation, Vila started, "What makes you think I have any influence over Avon? He never listens…"

Blake interrupted, "Because you two go way back, that's why I think that. I started noticing the way you behave toward each other, when you think no one is looking, so I tried checking up on you two. Nothing. Then it came to me why both of you seemed vaguely familiar to me. I met Avon, and saw you with him, at the technical show that I had the speeder in. You were together then, too. So, Vila, you can't talk your way out of this."

"But…but that was over a long time ago!" he protested honestly. "Sure, we go way back, but as friends, Blake. That's all we are, you've got to believe me!"

"Oh, I believe you, Vila," he said softly. "I know I possess him now, but I won't brook any interference from you. Is that understood?" For emphasis, he shook Vila roughly, his back against the wall. "Understood?"

"Yes…yes, Blake, understood. Let me go, please?"

Vila held his breath as Blake withdrew his bulk, releasing his grip on Vila's clothing and moving away.

He paused at the door, turning toward Vila. "Just remember what I said." He hit the door opener.

"Blake?" Vila called out softly to him.

"What is it?"

"Make him happy."

After a pause, Blake gave a curt nod to the thief, turned and left.

"…and don't hurt him…" Vila whispered to the emptiness. "…please…"

Then Vila fled. Seeking out one of his many bolt holes, an oddly-shaped, empty extension of the ducting system, he curled up and shook for a long while. Then, his mind shifted into gear as he tried to analyze the situation.

On the one hand, he owed Avon his honesty and support, if for no other reason than their past friendship. On the other hand, he owed himself his own survival. It was quite clear Blake was willing to commit violence upon the thief's person if he didn't get his way regarding Avon.

_It just shows me that I was right about him manipulating Avon. Blake needs Avon's computer genius and he's using sex to bind him. When Avon finds out he's being used again…_Vila's train of thought trailed off, as he remembered the others who'd used Avon in the past, and hurt him, when they inevitably betrayed him. Servalan and Tynus, certainly. Anna Grant, too, he suspected, but he'd never been able to prove it to Avon. And now Blake!

_Now what, Vila?_ He thought to himself. _If you don't interfere, Avon will get hurt; it's inevitable. But if you do interfere, Blake will hurt you or get you killed! _His dilemma chasing around his subconscious, Vila fell asleep.

Hours later, Vila swam back to consciousness, finding Avon asleep against the opposite wall, his head on his up-drawn knees. Vila smiled, amused that Avon had known where to find him. As Vila uncurled and stretched out cramped muscles, Avon awoke. _He's always been more sensitive to his surroundings than anyone else I've ever known, _Vila thought.

The computer tech came fully awake, instantly alert. Looking into Vila's eyes curiously, he asked, "Finally surfacing, eh?"

"How'd you know where to look for me?" Vila asked.

Avon began to stretch his own stiff muscles as he answered. "When you missed your watch shift, I went looking for you. When you weren't in your cabin, I started checking all your hidey holes." Glancing around, he continued, "This looks remarkably like the hiding place you took me to that first time. Do you remember?" he inquired, with one lifted eyebrow.

"Of course I remember. It was after I got you away from that bully boy in the park. We ate the food I'd stolen and …admired the gems I'd 'found'." Vila smiled at the warm memory of those six-year-olds' adventure. Then his face darkened as he remembered the end of that episode. "Then your father came and took you away from me. I remember crying on my mum's shoulder, thinking I'd never see my new friend again, but she said I would, and she was right."

Avon tilted his head. "I never heard that part of it, Vila, not even the next time I 'explored' and ended up at your house again." He went silent, his mind coursing down the years, remembering adventures, exploits, mistakes…and love.

Vila could see it on his face when he got to those few years of young manhood when they'd happily been lovers and the world was spread out before them, theirs for the taking. It hadn't happened that way, though, as distance, time, interests and quarrels separated them, until they'd been reunited on the London, as 'acquaintances.'

Vila was watching Avon when the tech shook himself out of memories' clutches to ask, "What's the problem, Vila? Why did you go missing and hole up here?" The dark eyes, so fierce at other times, held only sober concern for Vila's welfare. Vila gulped, totally unprepared to explain his problem, so he just shook his head and looked down, avoiding those eyes.

"Come on, Vila," Avon persisted reasonably. It was almost like the old Avon, from before higher learning had taken him away from Vila. "What could be so bad that you couldn't tell me?" He sounded so temptingly sane and sincere, it was all Vila could do not to blurt out the whole story. He remained mute with an effort.

Exasperated, Avon slammed his hand down on the deck, causing Vila to jump, something he hadn't known you could do sitting down.

"Vila," Avon began, "I know you're not lazy or evading your duties, so something must have set you off, and I want to know what it is. Now!"

Vila sighed. Avon was never one to let a mystery just lie there. Maybe he could tell him only part of the truth. Perhaps it would be enough to sidetrack him.

"I…had an argument with Blake. I came here to…think, and fell asleep." He stopped, but he knew he wasn't out of trouble yet.

"So…what was the fight about? I am unaware of any recent dereliction of duty or disagreement sufficient to set Blake off. Give, Vila, what was the subject?" he demanded, an implacable look in his eyes that told Vila he might as well tell the truth.

"You."

Avon's face hardened, suspicion creeping into his eyes. His privacy was one of those precious things that he jealously guarded from everyone, even Vila and Blake, though to different degrees and in different areas. So. They had been talking about him behind his back. His ire began to rise. He tried to control his anger, if only to get all of the details from Vila.

"You two…discussed me? In what respect? Don't' stop now, Vila," he said in a quiet voice that Vila knew represented anything but peace.

"He…remembered seeing us together at that tech show and put one and one together and came up with three! He warded me off, said I wasn't to come between him and you. That's all, honest, Avon. He just warned me off. I…told him there wasn't anything between us but he didn't believe me, I guess. I couldn't figure a way to convince him I was harmless, so I came here to think." Vila watched Avon, hoping against hope that Avon would accept his words as all there was to the matter and not push him for more, which he didn't dare give. It would blow up in his face to tell Avon that Blake was using him, and if Avon didn't kill him, Blake would!

"I…see," Avon breathed, and Vila heaved an inward sigh of relief. It was going to be all right after all, he thought, relaxing a little.

All hell broke loose, in the form of one enraged computer tech.

"Blake's right! You have no right to interfere between him and me. Just because you and I were once lovers doesn't give you any right to even discuss my relationship with him. How dare you?"

His eyes burned so hotly that Vila flinched involuntarily, molding his back to the wall. "It wasn't like that, Avon!" he protested. "I didn't do anything, Blake started it! I hardly said five words. He did all the talking."

That didn't calm Avon a bit. His rage coloured even Vila's simple explanation, fuel for his fire. He stood, tense all over, his arms at his sides, hands clenched. Slowly, Vila stood to face Avon eye to eye. He knew he was in for it now. He couldn't remember ever seeing Avon this mad.

Avon spoke first, probably a good thing, since Vila had absolutely nothing in his mind capable of defusing this white hot anger.

"Vila, hear me and hear me good. I'm only going to say this once." His voice was, by contrast, cold and deadly. "You have nothing to do with my relationship with Blake. You have no reason to discuss it with anyone at any time. Understood?" He waited for Vila's reply, while Vila shook slightly at that echo of Blake's wrath. He nodded sharply.

Avon continued, "I most especially do not need you telling me how to behave or with whom. In the future, you will keep your opinions in that area strictly to yourself. Is that clear enough for you?" Again Vila nodded, mute before Avon's dismissal of their past as inconsequential. His misery was written plainly across his face, but Avon couldn't or wouldn't see it.

Without another word, Avon left, stalking out of the small room and, seemingly, out of Vila's life. Looking after him in grief, Vila's tears silently streaked down his face. _Well, _he thought, _I avoided getting killed by both Avon and Blake. Just like always, I have to stand back and watch him get hurt, just so I can be around to pick up the pieces again._

In mute silence, Vila returned to his cabin and his duties, knowing what the future held for Avon and himself, but unable to change it.

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_A/N: Reviews would be welcome._


	4. Memories of Time Past & Love Lost

_A/N: This Part Four of Chapter Four of Thieves in Time. This one is focused on Vila, much to his distress. Warning: mature content!_

_The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives._

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It was change of watch, from mid to late shift. Vila stepped slowly down the stairs to the flight deck, where Blake and Avon sat side by side on the lounger, obviously sharing some private joke, from the look of it.

Avon rose and walked around behind the bench. Resting his hand lightly on Blake's shoulder, he leaned down and whispered something to Blake, who burst into light-hearted laughter, nodding in agreement.

"What's so funny, you two?" Vila interrupted them sourly.

"You wouldn't understand," Avon informed him dismissively.

"Not sure I'd even want to," he mumbled, heading for his own station. It hurt him, every gesture, every word, every intimacy between them. And he noticed every one of them.

"Well, at least you're on time," Avon muttered.

Vila ignored him and sat down at the console. "Anything to report?"

"Nothing," Blake answered him. "All quiet, no activity whatsoever."

"Good, then maybe I'll have a chance to catch up on my sleep."

"I don't think so, Vila," Blake said, rising. He waved a hand at the weapons station. "There was an anomaly in the neutron blaster readout during mid-watch. Probably nothing, but if you could check it out, I'd feel much better about it."

"Of course, Blake. Anything you say, Blake," Vila answered shortly, then climbed up to the weapons console.

"Coming, Blake?" Avon called from the stairs where he stood waiting.

The two Alphas left the flight deck together, passing Cally on her way to share watch with the thief. She shook her head as she moved toward the communications console, stopping next to Vila. "Why do you let him do that to you?"

"What's that?" he said, startled.

"Avon. Why do you let him torment you?"

"He doesn't torment me, Cally. Insults me sometimes, but I've grown rather used to it, you know. Wouldn't be Avon if he didn't."

"No, I mean the way he throws Blake in your face all the time. Doesn't that bother you?"

He stopped checking the readouts and turned to her fully, biting his lower lip. "Uh, why the sudden concern for my feelings, Cally?"

"It's because I like you, Vila, just as I do Blake and Avon. And this three-way battle seems to be building in intensity. We have enough fighting on our hands without starting our own private war here aboard ship." Her frustration was evident to the thief. He wondered if she was just good at reading people, or whether she was using some of her empathic powers, picking up the feelings and emotions that, to his eye, flowed about the three of them whenever they were in the same room together. Still, hadn't Avon and Blake both told him to shut up? To NOT discuss anything with anyone else aboard ship?

He tried to diffuse the discussion. "Blake's appointed you ship's counselor, then?" He tried a smile, a laugh, anything to divert Cally from probing into his troubles.

"No, I just don't want to see you hurt, that's all." She put a hand on the thief's arm. "You love Avon very much, don't you?"

A slight hesitation from Vila, then, "That obvious, is it?" He leaned back against the chair. "Yes," he said with resignation. "Have for half my life."

"I never realized," she said, shocked.

"Known him even longer."

"Tell me about it, Vila, please. Maybe it will help you to talk about it. I know it will help me to understand you both better."

Vila considered her request. She could be right. And it would be so nice to have someone to talk to, to ask for advice, to comfort him, maybe. "If you promise to help me recalibrate the weapons system, I will."

"Of course."

He moved from the console to sit on the deck's lounger, where she joined him. "Met Avon when we were both six years old. Saved his life, that's what I did."

"Did you?" she said, surprised.

"Just managed to get him away from some bully boy looking for a nice Alpha addition to his slave pen." Vila seemed lost in thought for several moments, then continued, "We were close friends for the next ten years."

She made a wry face. "Somehow I have a hard time thinking of Avon having or being anyone's close friend. He must have changed a great deal since then," she observed candidly.

Vila nodded, leaning back and closing his eyes. "I fell in love with that impossible man when we were both sixteen years old."

"And did he return the feeling back then?"

"Oh, yes. Those few years together were…memorable, to say the least." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head bent into his hands.

She saw his distress, or maybe felt it on some level. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, she said, "Vila, if this is difficult, there's no need to continue."

Vila sat up, shaking his head. "No, Cally, I think I've needed this for a long time."

"But I sense a sadness somehow, even during the happy times."

"You're right," sighed Vila. "You see, I had to leave my home and family because of our relationship. Avon always felt responsible but he never said much about it."

"You had to choose between your family and the man you loved? That must have been hard."

"Yeah."

"And do you think you made the right choice?"

Vila nodded again. "Most of the time."

"Vila, how can you just sit there and watch him and Blake, knowing they share a bed? Doesn't it hurt you terribly?"

He shook his head sadly. "It's not the first time, Cally. Probably won't be the last, either."

"And yet you always take him back."

"Yes," Vila said softly. "When…when we were first lovers, Avon told me he couldn't promise lifelong fidelity. I accepted that. Still do. There were others before Blake, all of 'em wrong choices, just like Blake."

"You think Blake is a wrong choice, then?"

"Don't you?"

Cally didn't know how to respond, so Vila went on. "He'll hurt Avon, just the same as all those others did, and I'll take him back, just like I promised I would."

"You're his lifeline, aren't you, Vila?"

"I suppose you could say that. But it does seem a little ironic, you know? That someone who's as smart as Avon claims to be, can be so stupid when it comes to love."

"Vila," Cally ventured sagely, "intelligence and love seldom go hand in hand. You and Avon are more than proof of that."

"Thanks a lot, Cally," he said, the corners of his mouth pulling down. Wasn't she supposed to be on his side?

"It was not meant as an insult," she said, frowning at him.

"I know," he sighed, standing up. "I appreciate your letting me ramble but we do have work to do."

"Of course." Cally smiled up at him. "But if it's any consolation, I believe that someday Avon will come back to you for good. Just keep being there for him when he needs you. He'll come around eventually."

Vila gave her a sad smile. "If I didn't believe that, Cally, I would have given up a long time ago."

"He's not an easy man to love, is he?"

"No, he's not, Vila agreed, "but every time he comes back to me, I'm reminded that he's worth the pain…all the pain."

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_A/N: Vila's staying true to Avon, no matter what, but he's in for some rough times, as is Avon._

_Reviews would be welcome!_


	5. Endings

_A/N: This Part Five of Chapter Four of Thieves in Time. Things begin to come apart, as the Liberator approaches its showdown at Star One. Blake makes a decision that haunts Avon for years to come._

_This is a long chapter, but it just wouldn't break! Warning: mature content! Warning: mature content!_

_The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives._

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"I can't believe you really mean to do it, Blake!" Avon tried to protest, as they talked in private. "Surely you know what will happen when Star One no longer functions?"

"Of course I do," he said angrily, "but I see no other choice. Star One must be destroyed."

"And don't you even care about all those who will die as a result of the destruction?" Avon pursued his line of reasoning, hoping to convince the man to stop his path to destruction.

"Yes, but somehow I didn't think you did, after all the things you've said." Blake looked at him intently, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together into a recognizable picture.

"Perhaps it's contagious, then." Avon spun on his heel, turning away from his leader and lover. "I find myself caring more and more these days. It's not something I've ever recognized in myself. I'm sure it's due mainly to your influence. I don't know whether to thank you or push you out the nearest airlock and be done with it."

Blake cocked his head, smiling indulgently at him. "I've given you a cause, Avon, something to fight for. Surely that is reason enough for a little gratitude, if nothing else."

Avon turned stiffly, planting his fists on his hips. His face darkened, eyes smoldering. "Nothing else? What do you call what I've been giving you for the past two years? That was not gratitude!"

Calmly, Blake asked, "Then what was it, Avon? Not love…surely?"

He didn't answer, merely stood glaring for several seconds, not having enough strength to deny what they both knew to be fact.

Blake chuckled softly. "So, you do love me, don't you, Avon?"

His reply came grudgingly, as though pried out of him. "I have…very strong feelings for you, Blake. You know that's as far as I will go, even for you."

"Strong feelings? That could be love…or hate. Which is it?" he demanded, feeling the room growing unaccountably warmer.

"If you don't know, then I'm certainly not going to enlighten you at this late stage in our game." Avon's bitterness made Blake want to hold him, to protect him from what was coming, but he restrained himself. He had to play the game to its conclusion, not let himself be swayed by this frustrating, beautiful, brilliant man.

Blake lifted his eyebrows in query. He had to know how far Avon would go, what he was willing to do. He demanded, "Then you will support me in this?"

"Do I have a choice?" Avon barely managed to whisper, head bowed, before Blake pulled him close and kissed away any further protest.

They fell together onto Blake's bed, grasping at clothes, reaching for each other in desperation.

_Oh, yes, Avon. I think it's all coming to the final play. I just wish there were some other way. If I could have ended it without hurting you, I would have done._ Blake's thoughts turned to other things as he sought Avon's lips with his own.

Several minutes passed as mutual passion claimed them. Then, without warning, Blake flipped Avon onto his stomach and began nipping softly at the back of his neck.

Moaning, Avon allowed it, then abruptly realized just what his lover was about, as he felt Blake's full weight settling over him.

"No!" he tried to protest, but Blake reached around, kissing away the rest of the words.

"It's all right, Avon," he soothed, his voice low, rumbling into Avon's back like a cat's purr. "I need you so very much…"

Lulled by Blake's voice, Avon didn't seem to understand what was happening until he felt the penetration, the cruel invasion of that part of himself he'd sworn never to give to anyone again.

"No, Blake, PLEASE…" he cried in anguish.

"Avon, don't make me stop, not now…" Blake gasped as he thrust deeper.

"Don't do this to me," Avon whimpered into the pillow, tears staining it. "You can't…" He gave up then, hating Blake for what he was doing but hating himself even more for his weakness in allowing it.

Further protestations went unheeded as Blake rode the cresting waves to completion, then collapsed onto Avon.

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Later, as Blake lay on his back, staring at the ceiling and listening to the soft breathing of the man asleep at his side, he thought, _I never meant for this to happen, Avon. I have to end it before it goes so far that neither one of us will ever be free again._ He reached out and stroked the bare back, the soft brown hair.

Avon stirred and rolled over to face him. "Blake." He whispered the name, but said nothing more. His eyes were soft with sleep, his face, too, trusting, if that was possible, unmasked by its usual cynicism.

"Avon, I…need to tell you something…and it won't be easy for you. It's going to be even harder for me…"

The tech rose up on one elbow, intrigued yet afraid. "What is it?"

Blake drew in a very deep breath, attempting to compose the words that he must say, knowing they would very likely have an effect not just on this man but on the entire crew, perhaps even the very cause they were fighting for. "It's about us, Avon." The mask slid into smoothly place. Blake tried to suppress a painful tightening in his gut. He had to do this. It didn't matter how he felt about Avon. It didn't.

Kerr Avon knew now, without being told, what would come next. He'd guessed for some time that Blake would have to end their relationship eventually but had hoped he would be able to prevent it, talk him out of it somehow. He knew he was in love with this charismatic figure, knew Blake had managed to cast a terrible spell over him. He refused to believe that their leader would push him aside now, after what they had shared over the past two standard years. If it did happen, he wondered, what would HE do without the leadership of the tall, curly-haired rebel? Without the warmth, the glow he seemed to have that bathed them all, but him especially. And, what would he do without the love they'd shared?

"Please, Roj…don't…" He hated himself for begging, for sounding needy like that.

"It's necessary, Avon, and we both know it, have known it since the beginning."

Avon rolled over onto his back, eyes closed. "I assume you're attempting to tell me it's over between us?" He tried very hard to keep his voice steady.

Blake didn't respond immediately, gazing at Avon, his soul demanding that he turn back, make things right between them. But Blake's mistress, the one he'd always followed without question before this, would have none of it. This was the way it had to be. He nodded his acceptance of her order. "I...yes, Avon, I'm afraid that is what I'm doing."

His eyes popped open, the warm brown turned to black. "Why?" he demanded. _Will I get the truth or will you lie to me like so many others?_ Avon steeled himself, waiting for the answer.

Those great shoulders shrugged helplessly. "There isn't enough room in my life or my heart for what we've had. You must have realized that from the beginning. The fight for freedom must be the most important thing. It has been, or was, until I met you."

"And you want to be free…of me…is that it?"

"I have to be." He pleaded silently with Avon to understand, to not make this harder than it already was.

"And I can no longer share that space in your heart?"

"No."

"I love you, too." Avon said bitterly.

_Then I'll have to make you hate me. It's the only way out of this,_ Blake thought_._ "You don't know what I've done to you, do you?"

"Oh, I know very well." Avon's beautiful voice dripped acid. "You seduced me quite nicely, stole my affection, made me…fall in love…with you. Is that what you wanted to hear, Blake? Is it?"

He shook his head sadly. "No, not even if it's the truth. But there's more to it than that."

"More?" Avon's brow furrowed in thought. What more could there be? He felt an icy finger of apprehension run down his spine, but repressed the shiver.

"I'm afraid I have a confession to make, Kerr Avon, one you won't want to hear but you will listen, even if I have to restrain you."

"A confession…do go on, Blake." The cold sarcastic tone was the one heard on the flight deck, in front of others. The voice he had saved for Blake alone, that would never be heard again.

"I used you, Avon. Pure and simple."

"Used me?"

"I needed you, your skills, your calculating manner, your lack of emotion. All the things I couldn't be, you were. Together, we had a chance of success, or at least that's what I thought at the beginning. I just didn't count on your falling for me the way you did." _Nor on my falling for you the same way_.

"Your ego is showing, Blake."

"I'm only repeating what you said to me. Look, Avon, if I must be blunt about this, then I will be. I set out to pull you in so deeply that you would not want to leave, no…so you couldn't leave. Not just me but the whole fight for galactic freedom."

"I don't give a damn about galactic freedom, Blake!" he spat.

"I know that, and that's why we have to end it, here and now. I care more about that cause than I do…about you." There, he'd said it, and if it hurt his lover, then so be it. It had to be said.

Avon swallowed the lump in his throat. "If that's the way you feel about it, then I believe it's time I got dressed and returned to my own quarters."

"You do that."

The tech rose from the bed, gathering up his clothing and the few belongings that had collected over the last two years. Dressed, he headed across the room, pausing in the entrance. "I am confused about something, Blake."

"Yes?"

"You said you set out to make me…fall for you, yet when I obviously did, you pushed me away. There's something faulty in your reasoning. It doesn't make any sense. Why did you do it? Can you answer me that?"

"Avon, if I could, then all this would have been unnecessary." Blake lay on his back, refusing to meet the other man's eyes.

"Then, there is only one other thing that needs to be said."

"And that is?"

"I want this ship, Blake."

Now Blake did turn over and face him. "You mean if you can't have me, you'll take the Liberator?"

"Yes."

"It'll make for a cold and lonely bed, Avon."

"Possibly. But in any case, I'll deal with it."

Blake sat us, pulled on his robe and stood. "Avon, there's too much passion in you to settle for a solitary life. You may not even admit it to yourself, but I've known you better than anyone for the past two years. The fire in you won't stay smoldering for long before it blazes up again. I just wonder who'll be consumed when it does."

"There's no fire left, Blake. It's all turned to ice now, thanks to you."

With those words, Avon turned and left Blake's bed and his quarters, never to grace either of them again.

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Avon paced the deck, then bent over Blake's shoulder. "One clue," he said. "Just one. And we have got it. Why are you listening to this drivel, Blake? We can take Star One. Let's get on with it!"

"Very stirring," Jenna interjected. "When did you become a believer, Avon?"

The tech glared first at her, then at Blake. "Are you just going to sit there? You have led THEM by the nose before."

Blake turned slightly. "Excuse me, Avon, are you going to answer her question? Are you a believer now?"

Avon favoured his former lover with an icy stare, waiting for him to continue.

"I meant what I said on Goth, Avon. We are not going to use Star One, we are going to destroy it!"

"I never doubted it," Avon informed him coldly. "I never doubted your fanaticism." He stood straight, not looking at anyone for a moment, then leaned over Blake again. "As far as I am concerned, you can destroy whatever you like. You can wade in blood up to your armpits. You can lead the rabble to victory, whatever that might mean." He hesitated as Blake turned and looked at him. "Just so long as there is an END to it. When Star One is gone, it is finished, Blake. And…I…want…it…finished." Avon's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "I want it over and done with. I want to be free."

"But you are free, Avon," Cally reminded him, tilting her head in puzzlement.

The tech's eyes narrowed as he walked away from Blake. "No…I want to be free…" he turned back, "…of him!"

Blake's expression never changed. "I never realized," he said. _Yes I did, but that's just between the two of us. _"You really do hate me, don't you?"

Avon ignored the obvious answer. "When we have dealt with Star One," he continued, "I will take you back to Earth, and then the Liberator is mine. Agreed?"

A slight nod from their leader. "Agreed. Assuming the others go along with it."

Avon moved away, towards his station, ignoring the others' comments, Blake's question still echoing in his mind: 'You really do hate me, don't you?' He watched as Blake stood and met his eyes. _Oh, if only I could, Blake, if only I could._

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"I gave him my word," Avon stated matter-of-factly.

"To fight off that fleet until the Federation gets here?" Vila asked, wondering if he'd heard correctly.

"Because that is what I promised," Avon said stonily.

"But why, Avon?" Jenna asked.

Avon's gaze never wavered as he shrugged. "Why not?"

Vila primed the weapons system as they waited for the precise moment to act.

"Zen, put up the force wall." Avon ordered.

Blake chose that moment to appear at the entrance to the flight deck, pale and weak.

"Why didn't you stay in the medical unit?" Avon berated him. "Couldn't you bring yourself to trust me, just this once?"

The rebel lowered his eyes. "I thought I might be able to help."

"In that condition?" Avon sneered.

"All right then, I'll go back."

"Can you manage?" Avon asked him, then added, "…alone?"

"Yes," Blake replied and at that moment, there was no one in the universe but the two of them. He had to say something, something that might, just might, make things better for the man he loved. "Avon, for what it's worth, I have always trusted you…from the very beginning." And with that pronouncement, Roj Blake turned away and left Avon to carry a burden never asked for and never wanted. Blake only hoped the man would be strong enough.

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EPILOGUE:

Avon's head was pounding from lack of sleep. It had been a year since he'd parted with Blake and thirty-six hours since he'd received the message. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, starting when Vila came up close behind him.

"You all right, Avon?" he asked, worry evident in his words and in he eyes. He knew Avon was past being tired and was holding on only by a thread of iron will.

"No, I am not all right," he admitted. This was Vila, after all. Vila knew him like no one else could. And he had to share at least this part of his burden with someone.

Vila dared to place a comforting hand on Avon's black-clad arm. He'd do anything for this man, but a little comforting was the most he could offer without being outright rejected. He'd watched Avon bend to the point of breaking, trying to carry the burden of Blake's Cause, and hadn't been able to stop him. So he gave whatever he could, whenever he could, offering his strength to Avon. "Then, are you ready to tell me what's going on?"

Avon's head came up, heavily, like a wounded beast. "I'll tell you, Vila, but no one else."

"Tell me what?"

"I've received a message from Blake…I think."

"Is that what all this is about?" Damn! Would the man never be out of their lives?

"I'm going after him." Avon's voice was almost a whisper, like a prayer in a chapel.

"Why?" Vila cried. He'd seen what Blake had done to his friend. Why would Avon even want to find him? "After all this time? It's been a whole year!"

"Jealous, Vila?" A smile tugged minutely at Avon's sculptured lips.

That almost-smile tugged at Vila's heart. In the back of his mind, a long-ago-Avon laughed and teased and smiled, unknowing of the dark future that awaited him, where even an almost-smile was cause for Vila to rejoice. But Blake…Blake had been their leader. Had been the warmth that kept the crew together. Had been Avon's lover. "I might be," he admitted, sucking in his lower lip and ducking his head a trifle.

"There's no need."

"Why, then?" Vila demanded, looking up, more concerned now than ever.

"There are things I never had the chance to say to him." Darkness swirled beneath the surface of Avon's brown eyes and his shoulders slumped. He wanted Vila to understand, but couldn't find the words to convince him.

"Then I hope you get your chance, Avon." Vila turned and fled the flight deck.

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_He was my strongest weakness, I surrendered heart and soul_

_Gonna be a long, long time, before I regain control._

_I'm still a prisoner, held captive by his memory,_

_He was my strongest weakness, and I'm afraid he'll always be._

My Strongest Weakness by Winona Judd

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_A/N: Has Vila finally given up on Avon? Stay tuned for the next story, Encounter With Violence. I wish I could up the Mature rating for it, but Mature is as high as it goes._

_Reviews would be welcome!_


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